


That's Pretty Fucking Crazy

by asslalonde (rawrmynameisval)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Implied Child Abuse, M/M, Shota, dubcon, sort of???, uh, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 23:43:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rawrmynameisval/pseuds/asslalonde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is a spoiled brat. Dave is the really awkward preteen from down the street. As they age, they find themselves getting a lot closer. For better or for worse--it's debatable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's Pretty Fucking Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> yo sup  
> so i suck at updating my fics im sorry but here's a different flavor of shota to make up for my procrastination  
> happy birthday

You were an asshole when you first met Dave. You were pudgy and pouty, with a smart mouth your teachers asked the Lord above to shut. He was tall and thin and gangly, with braces, and shades to match his big bro.  
  
You remember teasing him about his braces. You would tell him how dumb it made him look. He would redden under his freckles and look away, so you’d tease him about that too until he left the room.  
  
Your dad and his bro didn’t say anything about it. They were too busy with their hushed voices, and grim faces when they thought you weren’t watching, to pay attention to you two.  
  
Dave was your babysitter for years. You liked him, you always had. But you could tell the feeling wasn’t mutual.  
  
You called him ‘Davey’, because it bothered him, and because his bro chuckled when you did. You liked it when people laughed at what you said. Especially Bro, who didn’t laugh at anything.  
  
One day Dave cursed at you. He called you a shit. You started crying and went to tell your dad. Dave tried to stop you but you dodged his panicked grabs and made it into the kitchen. Your dad hugged you until you calmed down. Dave’s bro made him sit outside in the cold for five minutes. Later, as they were getting ready to go home, you heard Dave’s bro call him a shit too. Back then you thought it served him right. But you get it now.  
  
When he was fifteen, he went away for the summer. You didn’t see him for a long time. His bro kept coming over, but he never mentioned Dave. At least not around you.  
  
When he came back he was taller, but not as bony. He was strong and healthy, and the way he moved now reminded you of a cat.  You mistook this for arrogance. You recognize it now as confidence. You took every opportunity to insult him, hoping to put him back in his place.  
  
It was harder now. His braces were gone and and so were the lame, pointy shades that had only suited his bro. He wore a different, much cooler pair of sunglasses now. If he didn’t like what you were saying, he could just turn up the volume of his iPod. You tried to tell your dad that Dave was ignoring you, but he didn’t do anything about it. His bro didn’t punish him either. As long as you weren’t crying, they didn’t care.  
  
When he was sixteen, he was paler. His freckles had faded. It looked as if he didn’t go outside as often. You’d mostly grown out of your spoiled brat phase so you never mentioned it, though you're sure you could have made fun of him for it. He didn’t seem to mind coming over as much anymore.  
  
You caught him staring an awful lot.  
  
You were nine years old then. When he started touching you.  
  
Nothing too weird at first. Just your legs, your stomach, your neck, your hair. He loved your hair. When Bro and Dad were in the other room, he held you in his lap and buried his nose in it.  
  
You would try to wiggle free but his arms were like metal bars. Sometimes if you gave up and stopped trying to escape, he would poke you until you started up again. You could never figure out why he was doing that. You know now though.  
  
He would always get really quiet when he held you in his lap. After a while it always got uncomfortable. Finally he’d let you go and he’d lock himself in the bathroom for ten minutes or so and when he came back he wouldn’t make you sit in his lap anymore.  
  
One day he didn’t push you away. He held your hips and moved you around for a long time until his arms tightened around you all of a sudden and he gasped. It felt like he’d peed his pants. You tried to make fun of him for that but he just smiled at you.  
  
You figured out what he was doing a little bit later, when you discovered how to make yourself feel good in the same way. You told him the next time he came over and he paused for a moment without saying anything and then shut the bedroom door quietly.  
  
You asked him what he was doing. He didn’t answer.  
  
You were sitting on the bed. You were ten now, and you were coy and giggly. You knew how to bat your eyelashes to get the things you wanted.  
  
Dave stood in front of you and unzipped his jeans.  
  
“Y’ wanna see somethin' crazy?” he asked.  
  
You nodded.  
  
He pulled out his penis. It was a lot bigger than yours and there was hair like your dad's, but blonde. You wondered if his bro had blonde hair down there too.  
  
You asked recently, but Dave just said he shaved, and then changed the subject.  
  
He rubbed it in front of you, and it got thicker and heavier.  
  
“I’m hard now. D’you wanna touch it?”  
  
You nodded. You were curious. You didn’t wonder about right or wrong. You didn’t feel uncomfortable. Just a little confused.  
  
You touched it and after awhile you started licking it because he told you to. When you did something right, it twitched in your hands.  
  
He told you you were making him feel good and that made you feel proud of yourself. He wanted to come though. That’s what he said. That he wanted to come. You asked him, “Come where?” and he said he didn’t mind where. His answer confused you. It was a misunderstanding.  
  
You learned that day that “coming” meant the white stuff from his penis got all over you.  
  
He corrected your spelling later.  
  
From then on, every time he came over, you made him feel good. Sometimes he returned the favor, sometimes he didn’t. You learned to ask for it, and sometimes to beg. He made you swallow his cum when he was in the mood, and you didn’t like those times as much.  
  
Now he’s sitting in the driver’s seat of his bro’s van, going way over whatever the speed limit is. You’re next to him, in the passenger’s seat. You’re his copilot. His wingman. You watch for people following you and feed him fries when he asks. He still calls you 'kid', but he calls you 'babe' now too.  
  
You still don’t completely understand why he wants to leave his bro and your dad. You think maybe they found out about you two. Or Dave had another fight with Bro. You don’t see any marks on his face. You’ll check the rest of him later, in the motel room. Or maybe you won’t stop tonight. Maybe he’ll keep driving until he wears himself out and you have to take the wheel. He taught you how to drive already. It’s not legal, but he wanted to make sure you knew in case of an emergency. It hits you that he’s been preparing for this. Some sort of escape. You don’t know how to feel about that.  
  
He turns up the radio when his favorite songs comes on.


End file.
